Agadir travel guide 2025: The good, the bad, and the ugly
Recently, I spent five gloriously warm days in Agadir, Morocco with my pal, Miriam. When deciding where to go, we had just a few requirements: it had to be warm and sunny (to escape the grim Scottish weather), it had to be a four-hour-or-less flight, and it had to be affordable.
Agadir ticked all the boxes—especially the last one: the round-trip flight from Edinburgh was £65 ($84) and accommodation for five nights came to a ridiculously cheap £127 ($164), split between the two of us. Without knowing anything about the place, we just went for it.
I’d been to Morocco twice before. It’s a country and culture I find endlessly fascinating, and I’m eager to explore every corner of it. As the largest resort city in Morocco, I expected Agadir to be touristy, but what I found there still surprised me.
Where to stay in Agadir: riads, local flats and affordable options
Riads are my first choice for accommodation in Morocco. These traditional guest houses are full of colourful tiles, intricate ironwork, and water fountains that quietly trickle in the centre of peaceful interior courtyards. They’re a welcome haven from the dusty bustle of Moroccan life. Because we arrived late at night, we stayed our first night at the lovely Villa du Souss riad, just three miles from the airport. I couldn’t find any riads in the city proper, so for the rest of our stay, we rented a basic flat in the less-touristy Salam neighbourhood. It was relatively quiet, filled with shops and cafes, and we didn’t see a single tourist the whole time we were there. The locals either ignored us or greeted us with friendly curiosity, and we were stopped a few times to have a chat.
Is Agadir worth visiting? First impressions
My first impression of Agadir: it’s a shithole. While our neighbourhood was interesting—if not picturesque—the walk toward the beach and tourist sights was dismal. Agadir suffered a devastating earthquake in 1960, which by some estimates killed nearly half the population. That also explains why there didn’t seem to be any riads or traditional buildings in the city. Parts of Agadir look like a war zone, with half-built structures, empty lots strewn with refuse, and endless cement block buildings. Morocco is an arid country anyway, but it’s also in the middle of a six-year drought. We spotted a lot of sad, wilted palm trees in the parched parks.
In sharp contrast, the royal palace—one of ten in Morocco owned by King Mohammed VI—sits behind a low fence, its lush, immaculately maintained gardens fully visible on the walk to the main strip. There’s a private beach, pier, golf course, and breakwall within the compound. I’ve always wondered what the average Moroccan thinks of such a visible display of wealth, but Morocco’s lèse-majesté laws prevent citizens from criticising or even commenting on the monarchy, so I doubt I’ll ever find out.
Another gripe: there are very few cafes or restaurants right on the waterfront. But Agadir is undergoing serious urban development. We noticed a large mosque, theatre, museum, and several public buildings under construction. There are also a bunch of new resorts and hotels in progress, so it’s clear the Moroccan government is investing in the city. I suspect Agadir will look quite different in a few years.
On the plus side: the roads in Agadir are amazing. Smooth, clearly marked, well-maintained. Meanwhile, Glasgow feels like driving on the surface of the moon. (Honestly, roads in Greece, Italy, Turkey, and now Morocco have all been better than Glasgow’s. Glasgow City Council has a lot to answer for.)
Some rough-looking neighbourhoods on our walk into town
Unexpected things about Agadir: safety, culture and local life
I’ll admit, I’d had some hesitation about visiting Morocco without a male companion. My boyfriend had accompanied me on my previous trips, but this was the first time I travelled there with another woman. I’d read horror stories online and heard harrowing accounts from acquaintances—one instance of a solo traveller who was harassed so badly in Marrakesh that she cut her trip short after being followed back to her hotel.
Happily, nothing remotely like that happened to us. At no point did we feel unsafe. I even saw several women sunbathing alone on the beach without issue. One cab driver who picked us up when we got lost did chide us for walking alone at night, but I could only understand part of what he said (I really do need to pick up my French lessons again).
Something else that surprised me: how few people were smoking. From past experience, I expected clouds of smoke at every outdoor café, but it wasn’t a problem at all. (Miriam was thrilled.) We were only really bothered by it once, thanks to a nearby table of British tourists puffing away.
And of course, one of my favourite things about Morocco in general is the lack of rowdy, drunken Brits on holiday. We saw a few people drinking on the boardwalk and some cafés served wine, but it was all very civilised. Agadir is clearly tourist-friendly, but it didn’t feel overrun when we were there in the off-season.
How to get around Agadir: using InDrive for budget travel
We spent one afternoon wandering the Agadir souks, getting gently hassled by vendors. I love it—the smells of grilled meat and spices, the incense, the haggling, the chaos, the livestock—although Miriam found the experience stressful. We skipped the medina, which is actually a replica of the original built in 1992, and felt a bit too theme park for us.
We also spent a few hours at Argan Phyto House, a local hammam where a scrub and one-hour massage cost 400 dirham (£31). It was thorough—minty scrubs, coffee scrubs, the works. The massage was surprisingly good, but we were ushered out a bit abruptly, and then chased for an extra tip even though we’d already left one. Not the most relaxing end to the experience, but still worth it overall.
Mostly we explored on foot, but one of the best discoveries of the trip was the InDrive app. It’s kind of like Uber, but cheaper. Anyone can be a driver—not just taxis (which is why taxi drivers hate it). A ride from the airport into the city centre that might normally cost 150–200 dirham was only 65 dirham (£5/$6) using InDrive. Most of our rides were under £2—a bargain!
That said, using InDrive is not for the faint of heart. A couple of cars didn’t have seatbelts in the back. One of our drivers nearly sideswiped a car in a roundabout and proceeded to argue with the other driver… while driving. Still, you can see driver ratings and licence plates in the app, so it feels at least a bit safer than hitchhiking.
This wasn’t an InDrive car, but not far off.
Taghazout day trip from Agadir: surf town vibes and sunset cafes
On the hottest day of our trip—32°C/89°F—we took the local bus to Taghazout, a small fishing village about 45 minutes north of Agadir. Miriam was determined to do it ‘the local way’, so we crammed onto Bus 32/33 (no air con), which costs just 15 dirham (£1.15) round trip. Getting on the bus with a jostling crowd was like a contact sport, but once aboard, it was a comfy ride that dropped us right at the beach.
Taghazout has a totally different vibe. It's still got tourists, but it’s younger, more relaxed, and absolutely full of surfers. The beach wasn’t too crowded, though you’ll be approached by vendors selling camel rides, mint tea, bracelets, and, bizarrely, donuts. I’d heard that the undertow is pretty strong, which put me off swimming, but we spent a few lovely hours lying on the sand, watching surfers in the waves.
The cafes in Taghazout are next-level. I had the best salade niçoise of my life at World of Waves Cafe, and we happened to catch an incredible sunset while we were there. With flights to Agadir still as low as £40 round trip in spring and plenty of hostels around, I definitely want to come back and spend a quiet week here—writing in cafes and sunning on the beach. In hindsight, I wish we’d made Taghazout our base and just taken day trips into Agadir instead.
Final verdict: is Agadir a good place to visit in 2025?
As with every holiday, I didn’t fit in everything I wanted to see. Agadir is considered the capital of Amazigh (Berber) culture, and I really regret not making it to the Amazigh Heritage Museum. My Tangier-based friend and fellow American, Kenneth, also recommended Taroudant—a city known as ‘Little Marrakesh’, about an hour away—which I’ll add to the list for next time.
Looking back, I feel a little harsh about my first impression. Sure, Agadir’s architecture is a concrete fever dream, and the main tourist drag feels like it was designed by someone with a deep love of 1980s nightclubs. But once we got off the beaten path, we encountered everyday Moroccan life, from quiet corner cafes to curious locals who seemed more amused than annoyed by our presence.
Agadir may not win any beauty contests, but it’s a place of contrasts—gritty, surprising, and surprisingly welcoming. If you’re up for some sun, a bit of chaos, and the occasional unsolicited donut on the beach, Agadir delivers. I left with a few good stories, a decent tan, and a real curiosity to see what this city becomes.
Your Agadir travel tips: what did I miss?
Have you been to Agadir? What did you think? Any spots I missed, places you loved, or things I should try next time? Let me know in the comments—I’d love your recommendations.